Moonscape and Idiosync are one and the same person, Daniil Aleksandrov, seen above at work. Now with ten years' compositional experience behind him, he has recently branched out from shorter experimental works (released as Moonscape) and has begun publishing longer mixes as his alter-ego, Idiosync. Output from both projects is offered here for free downloading. In addition we offer some examples of a related visual project at Aleksandrov's home label, 56 Stuff.
The pictures are part of an enterprise known as neo-idiotism. Its authors describe this mini-movement as the "deliberate combination of simplified, incompatible images and an inscription. The main idea is to emphasize the lack of connection between these two components. The harder it is to find any logic that'll unify them, the better." This semantic game in the spirit of Magritte has a parallel in the philosophy behind Aleksandrov's output.
The images below, in descending order, read: "Five Year Plan," "Rainbow," and "Success." For no apparent reason.
Moonscape as a working name appeared in 2000, at the same time Aleksandrov was involved in major traveling around the world, in particular to Rio, Washington, and New York. Resulting impressions from these trips led to "experimental music designed both for listening and the occasional dance." The precise point at which we're expected to leave our seats and start moving remains a mystery.
Aleksandrov himself says: "My music has certain formal elements that express themselves in constant efforts to avoid both standardization and stereotypes. I'm not able to classify exactly what I do. Talking about styles is something for journalists and market analysts."
Talking about styles is something for journalists and market analysts
"I can at least say that it's a kind of compromise between experimentation and my care or attention for the listeners. The experimental element is sometimes an involuntary one: I'm driven by an insatiable desire to somehow plow through all the junk and musical cluelessness that are everywhere today. In the same spirit, I really want the public to listen right to the end of whatever I do."
"That's what produces the varities in my sound. You could say, though, that the sound itself is only a small part of the overall 'message.' I'm very much the product of an urban environment, and by 'urban' I mean the Big City, the kind of place that can be oppressive with its own, endless variety." This rather dark, secondary interpretation of novelty or difference is what leads to the clean, formalistic sounds in Moonscape's work, the clinical nature of their frequent chops and changes.
"My music can be a pretty harmless affair on occasion, something neutral and geometrically sequenced. Each composition is nothing more than a tiny, fleeting trinket. But then again, from another point of view, the music hides an substantial element of cynicism."
"I never completely reveal the full meaning of my sounds to the listener. That type of withdrawal can easily take on the role of somewhat lethargic state."
Withdrawal can easily take on the role of somewhat lethargic state
He's right; this is indeed a state of advanced cynicism, one that produces music and then denies its significance for those who like it! When challenged to ascribe it some meaning, Moonscape associates his output with the negative, oppressively multifaceted nature of urban life.
It's attractive, yet clinically emotionless; it's an object of desire, yet has no lasting significance. Like the metropolis it mimics, this music offers new centers of attention with such speed that a flickering "state of lethargy" results. These paradoxes led to the name of his debut CD, "Public Jewelry": the "sparkling" sounds therein were designed to "be worn by anybody - so you can go out for a stroll" - into streets that are just as translucent, bright, and emotionally sterile.
Hence the overall atmosphere of Aleksandrov's work, which he defines as "tranquil and yet nervous or wary. That seems fitting for my surroundings, a city where several million people are constantly struggling to stay on top of things. It's a pathological state, brought about by the lack of free time." Aleksandrov's easy-going, downtempo recordings offer people a little peace and quiet, yet they do so cynically. They certainly don't offer respite from the comatose or "lethargic state" of late capitalism; they mirror it. What you hear is not what you get. Hence the neoidiots.